


Smack Dat

by Alice_Marie



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Sex, Armie Has To Top Himself From The Bottom Sort Of, Ben is Not Experienced But He's Trying, Ben is a Soft Dom, Butt Slapping, Butts, Fluff and Smut, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Neck Kissing, New Relationship, One Shot, Tags Are Hard
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-23
Updated: 2019-05-23
Packaged: 2020-03-10 02:42:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,131
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18929665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alice_Marie/pseuds/Alice_Marie
Summary: After years of mutual but hidden pining... Ben and Armitage are finally in a relationship.Armie's been around a bit, he's had some experience. Enough to develop a taste for things. Ben not as much. But he's determined to please.Sexy times in spite of insecurities and a lack of know-how ensues.





	Smack Dat

**Author's Note:**

> It's really just sexy times with bare bones premise - outtakes from our modern AU :3 Lols. Also because when we put these two muses in the room together two things happen. Angst. Or Smut. Sometimes angsty smut. Sometimes smutty angst. We're soft for happy and safe BenArmies xD
> 
> We make no apologies.

“Give it a good whack.” Armitage lifts his hips, gently wriggling his pert bum side to side. 

Ben watches, mesmerised. It’s a point of some controversy between them. He licks his lower lip nervously.  “What if I kiss it, instead?”

“You can kiss after?” Armitage lifts a brow.

Ben draws a deep breath, draws his hand back and lets it snap against his smooth skin.

“That’s it?” 

Ben frowns. Well, it sounded…. Right.

“I can nap while you practice.” Armitage teases, scooping the pillow under his chest, a coy glance thrown over his shoulder. 

His dark haired lover looks uncertain.

“Ben it's fine. I have lived through a LOT. One slap... is NOT GONNA HURT!” 

He knows this, of course he does… It’s just…  His hands smooth over those pale globes of flesh.

“Ben, you have killed men with your bare hands…” Armitage tries to put it into perspective. 

Ben wars with himself, gathering all of his resolve. “Okay.” He clears his throat, climbing more directly behind him.

“Tritt used to use objects Ben, I think your hand will be just fine.” 

His name, being mentioned here… And so lightly. Ben’s eye twitches. 

“What?”

Armitage huffs a sigh. 

“It doesn't matter! Just hiiiiiiit!!!!! Your hand won't hurt me!” He urges, wriggling his bum further. 

"Okay, geez!” The sound of skin cracking upon skin fills the otherwise quiet room. His palms tingle, all the way up his long fingers. He glances down, his handprint pink on that creamy skin.

Armitage looks over his shoulder at him.

“...Great job!” He tries to be encouraging. It’s a slow process. Ben is new to this life. A life with a partner. And to a wider array of tastes.

Ben sighs, flopping down beside him on his back, his expression is one of concern as he gazes at his heart.

“It didn’t hurt!” Armitage tries to soothe.

“But you like it? More aggressive... Kinds of interactions?” He thinks back on darker days, fearing… Armitage shrugs.

“Not too aggressive.”

“Okay…” He makes a mental note to Google it later. His fear has always been one of inadequacy. Armitage’s relationship was a long-term one. He was… Exposed to a lot. 

Armitage leans over, kissing his cheek.

“I love you. It's not just about me. If you can't... then that's okay. It doesn't change my love.”

“N-no. It's fine. I can. I…” Ben’s cheeks are flushed. He gets back up to his knees, settling behind him once more. He’s nervous. Mostly because Armie is his best friend and his love and his heart and he's gorgeous and more experienced and just.... He's been through so much! 

Armie’s pale fingers extend behind him, reaching for his hand.

“It's okay... relax....”

Ben leans into him, his larger frame heavier against Armie’s. He takes his hand and presses it into the blankets, pinning the other one, too. He kisses him lightly at the nape of his neck. Once... Twice... Slower, lips parting, huffing his breath softly against sensitive skin. 

Beneath him, Armitage shivers with delight, gasping softly, mischievously pressing his rear up against Ben. He rests more of his weight on him, his knees slipping between Armie's, and then sliding them apart.  His feet hooking over Armie's calves to keep them from coming together. He grins as Ben slides apart his legs, his cheeks heating...

He laps at that skin along his neck, deliberate and slow. Careful. Before he draws a pinch of skin between his canine teeth and pulls enough to create tension there. He moans... moans that grow louder and collide with little sounds of exclamation, little surprises, more shivers down his back. “Ben…” 

Ben rumbles his pleasure, more vibration than sound. He feels that familiar pull deep in his belly, hardening at the thought... That he might just be able to make Armie feel this good, truly... He drags his hands up his slender arms, his nails grazing up the pale skin he has fantasised over for years. Armitage can only moan softly at the friction.

Up over the smooth square of his shoulders, his fingers a light cage around his throat. Barely touching his delicate neck, easy for him to stop if he doesn't wish him to... Armitage pauses. His eyes fall closed. He hardly touches... it's so unlike Opan's hands banded tightly there... the exertion of his leather fingers pressing against...

This is different. Soft... and... and hot... so hot…

His lips find his earlobe, a soft hitch of his breath before he pulls that soft nub of flesh between his lips, nose brushing against the edge of his red hair. Armitage makes a soft sound, leaning into Ben's fingers, his thoughts are silenced as Ben catches his earlobe. His lips hang open, eager breaths... his core tightening... what lies between his legs is already so hard!

Ben can't help but be encouraged. Armie's soft moans, leaning into him. That long column of warm flesh in his palm. He caresses firmly with an open palm, feeling the fine lines of tendon and musculature. His entire body is an exquisitely crafted masterpiece. A thought he keeps unspoken but hopes Armie can feel, the way he slides the pad of his thumb up his neck, pushing his chin up as he lavishes attention to his ear, moving to the apex of his jawbone, then along that strong line... 

Armitage swallows, feeling Ben's hand smooth that place of vulnerability... he blinks, trying to stay here. This moment. Not to think of... anything else. Ben's touch is adoring. It's love. He feels safe, even as his thumb slides up, he lifts his chin, obedient... willing… Ben’s kisses make soft wet noises, his open palm now settled firmly across his throat, tilting his head back and gently to the side, catching Armie's lower lip with his teeth. The way he says his name... Ben... Heated. 

He feels Ben's mouth, his kisses, the sounds so intimate, so close, so hot and wet... he bucks his behind further against Ben, only making further little gasps and moans, Ben's touch grows firmer, but Armitage isn't afraid as Ben takes his lower lip, his eyelids flutter.

“B-Ben…” His breathes come heavier. His tone pleading... but he isn't sure what he pleads for… His tone.. Ben groans softly in spite of himself.

Ben's cheeks flush but he’s grateful for his position, less likely Armie will see - that the delicate spell of appearing like he knows what he's doing remains unbroken. Lest Armie see how completely open he is, vulnerable in his own eagerness, his own desire and wanting to please. 

He can feel him swallow, his throat moving beneath his hand. Armie is hypnotic, intoxicating. Even just something so mundane as swallowing... The sound of his breath... He releases his lip only after he has nipped it, licking over it as if to sooth the pinch. He must be careful... He wants this to be them. Only them. He doesn't want to drag dark memories to bed with them, so he slides his palm lower, smoothing across his clavicle, the flat panes of his chest, pressing his hips down more firmly against Armie's as he bucks up against him. He makes a soft clicking sound with his tongue. Bens hot tongue on his lip... how can he be so hot, with that underlying thrill... but so gentle simultaneously? Armitage realises it's all he wanted... all along.

“Not yet…” He murmurs, proud of how steady his own voice sounds in spite of the way his heart hammers so loudly in his chest. His large hand slides down lower, across Armie's pecs, pinching at the soft flesh of his nipple, teasing it into a hardened peak.

He shivers at Ben's tone. His beautiful, dark voice... it's a new side to him. One that Armitage adores. He hears Ben's little groan and his lips work, though only small pleading sounds escape them as his hand slips lower. He moans at Ben's touch on his nipple, longing to touch himself… Ben can feel him shiver. His eyes are closed, kissing down the back of his neck, across his shoulders. Armie's little needy sounds... His own breath feels ragged. His self control teeters… Then Armie moans in earnest at the way he touches him.

“P...please…” His voice is thick with lust.

He slides his hand back, running down his sides, each hill and valley of his ribs. He draws back further, seeing his love's beautiful form and his own large hands covering it as they move. Like hungry mouths, consuming every sensation. The warmth of his body, the smoothness, the softness of his skin… His hands come to his hips, gripping into those globes of flesh. Squeezing, gently until the skin responds with the faintest blush, like pale pink rosebuds blossoming under his fingertips.

They'll likely fade as quickly as they bloomed. It's a marvellous sight. A dangerous one, already proven to be addictive. But Ben is determined not to succumb. He will treasure him... Adore him. Worship him... Even if he pretends to own him now as he lifts and turns him bodily, throwing him down on his back amongst the blankets and cushions. Armitage feels the flow of Ben's long, warm hands flow over his entire body. Ben's sacred hands squeeze his cheeks. He can feel Ben's gaze over him and he makes another soft sound, both needy and full of delight. He gasps in surprise as he is lifted like he weighs nothing, turning him on his back, landed on the gentle pillows, gentle sheets.

Ben can only hope he looks the part. Not just a ravenous beast, two steps from frothing at the mouth, even if the front of his underwear bears the dark marking of his hardened length and it's already dripping tip. A fact that does not go unnoticed amongst Armtiage’s admiration of his form. He love is so tall, so handsome. 

“Please, what?” Ben asks, thinking he must sound somewhat believable, his large hands smoothing over his perfect tummy, up to those pink points, teasing them with his fingertips.  Armitage stares up at Ben, something sly in his look, despite how he pleads, how his eyes are half lidded... he's had practice of looking sly… Ben's hands still roam him. His head falls further back in pleasure. Ben adores his love. How strong he is and yet how unresisting he is to his own movements. If he had resisted, it would have been a lot harder to flip him, yet laying amongst their soft collective of their bed, their weekend love nest... He looks so perfect... So pure... At least until Ben's dark eyes lift to his face. That sly expression. He tries not to let his insecurity gain a foothold, pressing onward with his little interrogation

“Touch you?”  He asks coyly, leaning down, the soft fabric of his underwear barely grazing Armie's ruddy point of desire. Armie's breath grows ragged. Their cores... so close.

“Taste you?” No time to prepare, Ben's tongue is at his neck and he writhes for a moment. Unable to hide his blatant desire... his slyness slips away so easily into simple need. Ben’s tongue swipes a trail upwards, stopping, braced now on the bed, planking above him, their bodies precious centimetres apart as he breathes into his ear.

“Or fuck you?” Ben notes the rise and fall of his chest... His tongue seems to be Armie’s undoing, that sly look falls away. He feels the jerk of his hips as Armie bucks against him and lifts his own, tsking his tongue.

“You have to use your words…” Ben chides, managing to keep his arms from shaking as he holds himself above Armie

“All…” He breathes. “Touch... taste…” He tries to meet  Ben’s charcoal eyes. 

“So greedy.” Their eyes meet. Ben can't hide. Not here. Not with him. His love. His eyes are pits of lust and longing. He licks his lower lip, still trying to have some semblance of... Of what they're playing at. 

“And fuck me... Ben…” Ben's eyes... the way he looks at Armitage. Armitage's cheeks only heat further.

“Then say it…” Ben coaxes, lowering to brace himself of his forearms, their bodies so close, a marvellous display of his core strength. Their bodies brought so close... Ben's control over himself... how much larger he is! Armitage wants to feel him…

“Say. Please.”

He struggles to draw in breath. To keep his voice even.

“F...fuck me…” He pleads. He longs to have his love inside him... or to be inside his love… “Please…”

Ben can't resist the temptation of those perfect lips. Not for a second longer. His kiss is heavy, heated. Hungry for the taste of him on his lips. He twists, deftly whisking his underwear away before be settles against Armitage like the breaking of a wave. His hips roll against Armie's, his hands roaming, greedily touching, seeking... Exploring, mapping his pristine form with his large hands. How fine! And yet Armitage isn't delicate. His lips dance with Ben's, the pressure is intense, delightfully hot... his eyes glimpse Ben's underwear being removed... their hips roll together, Armitage lifts a hand to Ben's thick hair while Ben's hands explore him

He rolls him again, quickly swiping the moisture from his own desire onto his fingers. It all happens at a thrilling pace, Ben's strong arm caught around him, grinding upon his throbbing point of pleasure, leaving Armitage gasping, his eyes closed, his hand tightening in Ben's hair. Ben makes a soft sound, like a dreamy sigh, He is weak for his touch. The gentlest, most deliriously pleasant way to come undone. He listens to his gasps until his own joins in the fervent prayer, Armie's fingers tighten in his hair and Ben shudders with pleasure, a delicious tension on his scalp.

Ben’s thumb strokes down that crease, teasing him, gently pushing against his opening while he kisses his lips, his neck, his shoulders... Anything he can reach while he tries to prepare him... Ben's wetted finger dips into the private area between his cheeks and he makes a sound of bliss, Ben's lips are all over him... A fever... Armitage is harder than ever, caught in this current, he opens his eyes, only to see the look on Ben's face. 

The last of Ben’s comprehensible thoughts vanish into white-hot need and lust. His gaze already laden with it, heavy, pulling his lids down as he looks up at Armie, his dishevelled ginger locks... Delicious, with the dapple of sunlight across his skin, seeping in between the slats of the blinds. That hunger... Armitage's jaw hangs, the sunlight bathes them, warm and somehow profane to do this in the daytime. His hand in Ben's hair lowers to feel across Ben's chest, his body... he whimpers, but it is soft and needful, he only spreads his legs further for Ben...

Their eyes meet. Ben wants to look at him, at his perfect face, his dream come true... He hopes to see pleasure there as he gently pushes, sliding his finger into that hot flesh. His heart races. His free hand rubs along Armie's leg, divine flesh. Armiteage’s head throws back, Ben's finger slides deeper and he makes a sound between a moan and a cry. More! He wants more! He wants Ben's precious length... But feeling him inside... he's speechless, only speaking in sounds of lust... Even with the heat, the passion... Armitage feels so... treasured. He is unsure how he could deserve it, only that it seems destined, that he seemed so blind before...

Ben is convinced there is no one more beautiful. Times like this, he is so overwhelmed by longing. Sometimes it feels like more than his own, as if they have chased each other for far longer than can be recalled in one lifetime...he leans down, seeking those lips again as he slowly pushes his finger into his love, withdrawing slowly before slipping in further. A little at a time, stretching him... Something that is hard to do, he greedily wants to guide Armie's hips down, wants to feel him slide down around him... 

He looks to the side, his long arm stretched, his hand groping, grabbing the bottle of lube from the bedside table. He drizzles it onto his own stomach, the muscles clenching and tensing at the coolness. He watches Ben pool lube over his sculpted muscles. The most beautiful, so finely crafted. Ben slides his hand along his stomach before reaching back, slicking his entrance. Armitage closes his eyes, only to feel a second finger. His eyes blow open, chest heaving.

“Ah... Aah!”  His breaths are short, he writhes on Ben's fingers, burying them deeper within himself. The widening of his eyes, his exclamation. It's all Ben can do to keep himself from coming then and there. Ben cannot hide his pleasure, his cock twitches where it lays thick and hard against his stomach. He groans, pulling Armie's chest closer as he scissors his fingers in and out of that tight heat. Armie’s cheeks reddened as he watches the twitch of Ben's cock... his eyes lift to meet Ben's, knowing the action Ben makes with his fingers within him. He makes a desperate sound, he swears, he longs to touch Ben's swelling cock... his hand wandering close to it... despite Ben's distractions with his fingers... Yet Ben has been given control... and there is a better place his length might be sheathed... Armitage's eyes plead him.

“Ben…”

He's lost to the sensation. Their sounds. The feeling. Like coming home. The click of a key in the lock. He looks up at Armie, love bleeds into that heated look. He grins, a lazy, affectionate look. His grin! Playing coy! Armitage can't be mad at him... the love in his eyes is too sweet, too beautiful. 

“Y-yes…?”

He slips his fingers out, slick with lube. Even as he pulls his fingers out and Armitage sighs... he sees Ben's hand come to his own manhood, gripping himself, lining the tip of his cock up with that teased entrance.  Armitage knows what comes next. He's practically drooling for it. His hands are on Armitage's hips, Armitage spreads himself, wide, feeling Ben come to enter him, he gasps, a small, shrill sound.

He hopes it's enough. He hasn't had experience with others... He doesn't know if what he has is... To Armie's preference but he can't let it matter. He has no space in his head to compare himself to a man locked in jail.

He has only love... And in equal measure...lust.

He holds Armie's hips still, lowering them slowly onto himself, his breath caught in his chest. 

“Gods, Armie!” He groans, swearing softly, negotiating their bodies into the most intimate of positions. He pants softly. And tight. Ben draws his knees up a little, his toes curling slightly as he looks down to see himself disappearing into his flesh. Two. And then one. 

Armitage pants... moaning… They're joining, becoming one. Armitage's eyes squeeze shut, to relish the sensation. His lips hang open uselessly as he tries to help Ben inside of him... he feels his whole length... so large, formidable, so tight inside him! He cries out, but only in pleasure...

Ben can only study his love's face. Seeking signs. If he should slow down or if he is hurting him… Armie's eyes squeeze shut and he tries to make himself slow down, worried he will hurt him somehow. He admires the fans of his pale lashes against his skin. He loves him. He wants to scream it to the world, but he only stares, caught in the most pleasurable helplessness he has ever felt, Armie's cry of pleasure. 

He seeks his lips while he rests inside him. Ben's lips find his, so considerate... letting him adjust... Ben is so large, he feels so filled! His arms come around him, Armitage still breathless, he clings to Ben, his hard length sliding across his love's stomach... Armitage prepares himself, feeling Ben slide from him... he knows this... but it is infinitely kinder as they part and join, part and join, he feels so secure in Ben's grasp, his length buried into him...Then his arms are around him, bringing their bodies closer together. Their chests warm, Armie's length slipping through the lubricant on Ben's stomach as he holds him down. He braces his feet on the bed and begins to slowly withdraw, thrusting back into him, beginning to find a rhythm, a pace, while his kiss conveys his hunger, his need, the passion... 

“Armie…” He can't manage to get his words together, fucking into him, his concentration on keeping them steady and the pace that deliciously demands quickening. He moans, swears... Manages to string a word of praise or two into it before he dissolves into heated pants, sweat beading on his skin.

Armitage can only moan, his moan rising, he pulls Ben close, trying to help him thrust, his entire world is Ben, his love, he is everywhere... inside of him, around him... The pace quickens. Armitage cries out his name in worship, his miracle... to have joined with his perfect love, the pleasure satisfied by his thick manhood... sweat covers them both, Armitage bears his throat, his sounds show undeniable pleasure.

They cling to each other. Their bodies joined everywhere they can be. Lips and tongue before they are parted in favour of offering praise. Hymns of pleasure, rasped out and moaned. They work together, unsurprisingly, remarkably well together. As if they can read the language spoken with the movement of their muscles. Armitage helps with his motions to work deeper into him. Fuller. Ben shudders with pleasure, gasping for air. 

They grow slick with their efforts. A churning motion, a machine of pleasure. Sweat. Lube. A mess but Ben wouldn't change a thing, here in this moment. Not for the entire world. It isn't so long... Not so far away... Unpractised. New. Recently deflowered, if one were to be so archaic. Not to mention hopelessly turned on. Armitage ignites him so easily.

“A-Ah-Arm....!” He tries to warn him. He feels close, a tension built so thick and tight at his core. He doesn't know... What to do.. Should he withdraw?! And yet, Armitage has not yet peaked! He thrusts into him, eager and growing more nervous as that blinding pleasure builds.

The way they fit together... it seems ludicrous now to suggest they could be anything other than two pieces of one whole. Radiant and flowing, their lips, tongues and their most intimate of places, brought together. The sounds they make are a chorus... the movements of their bodies, stretching and working, deeper and deeper, Armitage gasps. The pace has grown quick... the friction of Ben's stomach on his own point of pleasure... he feels Ben above him, so magnificent, so strong... his dark hair flowing... the pleasure that twists his features... Armitage's face is a mirror... His hands come to Ben's hips, he must continue... the thrusting only increases pace... Armitage can feel his release build... thriving in that space on the precipice... he lives in white hot ecstasy... he must satisfy his love...

Ben feels those blessed hands on his hips. He hopes... Hopes he understood because he cannot speak beyond vague sounds. He is sure to roll his hips, his stomach, the motion slides along Armie's length. He can take it no longer, his cock twitches as he finds his climax, his voice is a cry of pleasure. Armie's name offered in praise, spilling his seed buried deep into Armitage. He feels it, somehow hotter still, thick. So tight. His head tilted back, breathless, he... His cheeks heat even further, a blush that reaches his ears, his neck... Embarrassment for not lasting... How long is long?! He doesn't know, all he knows is that he didn't want it to end! He must make himself move. He will finish this... If only it didn't feel like he had just extruded every bone out of his body!

Armitage feels Ben's manhood twitch, he cries out, feeling his own in response... Ben's precious liquor fills him, the way Ben's head tips back... the blush he wears. Armitage is fast... a single thrust and his own release. He cries out Ben's name... in pure bliss... It's a mess. The thick fluid of their passion floods their bodies... the sheets, their faces both wear a heated blush... Armitage reaches to caress his cheek... satisfied... so filled... He can feel Ben sliding from his body, the hot spend slowly spilling out in his wake.  

Ben leans over him, kissing him once more - their chests heaving, trying to find their breath before they collapse together, a tangle of limbs, pressed together. Content. To stay here all weekend, if it can be managed…

~

  
  



End file.
